


The First Trimester

by squiggyrag



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M, Gen, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-02
Updated: 2013-09-02
Packaged: 2017-12-25 09:28:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/951463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squiggyrag/pseuds/squiggyrag
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roslin deals with the first signs of her pregnancy. Written for westerosorting in 2009, when I was in my first trimester myself!</p>
            </blockquote>





	The First Trimester

As she did every night, Roslin Frey Tully came to her husband’s cell. It was dark in the dungeon of the Twins and she carried a small torch. The light spread ahead of her into the darkness and then receded. She walked slowly. There were many wrong turns in the passageways. If she was caught, she would be punished, but Roslin was not afraid. Not anymore. The gaoler, Rolph Rivers, gave her a soft smile. “Come to see the little lord again, have you?” When Roslin gave no answer, he sighed and turned, pulling out his ring of keys. “Five minutes” he said gruffly, and she nodded. Roslin had always been kind to Rolph and so he allowed her this. He opened the door. She walked in.  
  
Edmure was expecting her. Although he still did not speak to her, he had laid his smallclothes across the cell. The stench was overpowering, and Roslin inhaled through her mouth deeply to steady herself. She could not let Edmure see her disgust. “Thank you, m’lord” she said. “I will have these washed and brought to you.” Although Ser Ryman would not permit Edmure’s dressclothes to be washed, he did not know of her nightly visits. It was the only small kindness she could give him.   
  
Edmure’s eyes followed her as she left.  _One day, he will speak to me._ Whether his silence was from grief or betrayal, she did not know. Too many horrors had happened on their wedding day. When Edmure had heard the screams below, he looked at his bride in revulsion and pushed her off him. “What have you done?” he cried, throwing on his clothes and grabbing his sword. Those were the last words he had spoken since his sister and nephew were slain.   
  
 _It was not me, my lord_ , she wanted to tell him. But it wouldn’t be true, would it? Walder Frey had come to her and promised her a great marriage. “You will have Riverrun, and all you have to do is keep the little fish’s cock occupied long enough for me to have my revenge.” She could have never suspected that he would betray guest right…that he would slaughter innocent women..could she have?  _Stop these delusions_. She told herself. _You are a Frey, you know what Freys do_.. She stepped outside of the cell. Rolph closed the door. “You  _are_  a Tully now.” he said. Roslin didn’t understand. He gestured at the pile of spoiled clothes she carried. “Family, Duty, Honor. Don’t tell me Fat Walda would do that for her husband.”    
  
 Washing his clothes was difficult work. Roslin’s delicate hands were not made for scrubbing, but she would not permit her maid to do them for her. Blisters formed on her hands and she grew dizzy with the heat of the hot water. Kyra sat next to her and instructed her. “You must push harder.” Roslin gathered up all her strength and scrubbed the clothes against the washboard with a greater pressure and pace. “That’s it” Kyra said with approval, but Roslin could not keep it up. Her strength sapped, she stopped. Her breath came and went, her back sagged, and tears began in her eyes. Kyra reached a hand up to rub her back. “I wish m’lady would let me do them.” Roslin wiped away the tear and sat up again. “He is my husband….I must do something.”  She resumed scrubbing.  
  
When Roslin finished,  great fatigue fell over her. “Kyra….” Her maid sat up. “I fear I will sleep too late tomorrow. Will you take them to him?” Her maid nodded, and Roslin crawled into her bed. “M’lady….” Kyra began. Roslin looked up at her. “Yes, Kyra?” Kyra was reluctant, but went on. “It’s just….I would never presume but….” She trailed off, averting her eyes, and turned to leave “Nevermind.”   
  
Roslin knew what she wanted to ask. Why did Roslin keep washing his clothes, week after week? She had only known him one night. Every day his life was threatened. She was sure to have a different husband before the season changed. When Robb Stark had given his promise to Walder Frey, Roslin had dreamed of marrying the wolf king and being his queen. She had believed that outside the walls of the Twins, true chivalry existed. There would be music and laughter and love. They would have children who were strong and wise, not cruel. When he had broken his promise, she had bitterly accepted that most men were like Freys, in the end.  But Edmure had been different. He had a comely, gentle face and during their bedding had been more kind to her than any man she had met. He was not a king, but she was no queen. She had learned that. As long as her husband lived, she would be his wife. That was all she could do.  _At least I am not pregnant. That would surely be the death of him._  Her moon’s blood had come to her a few weeks ago. Faint and small, but there just the same.  She would have liked a stronger sign, but it was a small comfort.  
   
Roslin dreamt of her wedding, but instead of upstairs with Edmure, she was next to Walder Frey. She held a greatsword and cut down everyone around her. She heard screams but did not stop. Blood flowed through the castle. It was a river of blood, and Roslin was caught in it, and pulled underwater.   
  
When she woke up, Roslin was nauseous.  Kyra fed her a small breakfast of wheatcakes. She had no sooner gotten them down before they came back up. “It is only a bad dream.” she told Kyra, who did not look reassured.  
  
The next morning, Roslin threw up again. “More bad dreams, m’lady?” Kyra put a warm washcloth on her face. “You know, I have heard that a woman’s blood may show  while she is with child.” Roslin gritted her teeth. _No, no. It cannot be...Edmure..._ “Do not look so afraid.” Kyra said with sympathy. “Mayhaps it is a girl.”   
  
That evening, she came to Edmure. His clothes were laid out, his eyes on her. Roslin leaned over to pick them up, and as the stench hit her she gagged. The back of her throat was tight, and she tried to breathe deeply. She paused, but only for a second, and then clutched them. _I must get out quickly._  As she straightened back up, another wave of nausea hit her and she could not control it. She dropped the clothes and hunched in the corner as her supper hit the floor.   
  
When she was done, she sat on the floor and used his smallclothes to mop up her sick. Roslin looked at Edmure. “Forgive me, my lord…I….I believe I am pregnant.” He said nothing. “What would you have me do?”  She looked down and folded up the clothes. “There is always tansy…” it was hard to say, but must be offered. “Edmure, this I would do for you.”  Roslin could not look at him, and he did not say anything. “My lord…I am sick of death. Mayhaps I am meant to bring a life, to replace the ones that have been taken. I pray for a girl.”  
  
She began to stand up. Edmure cleared his throat, and Roslin turned to look at him. His eyes were red. “ A girl..” His voice was weak and scratchy. She did not move. “If it is a girl….I would like her to be called Catelyn.” Roslin nodded, afraid to say anything lest he become upset. Edmure took a deep breath and she realized there were tears in his eyes. He moved towards her slowly, chains dragging against the hard floor.  When he reached her, he took her hand in his. Edmure’s fingers traced her blisters and she winced at the touch. When he looked up at her, she felt as though he was looking at her for the first time.  _He does not hate me._ “Thank you” he said weakly, looking again down at her hands and his smallclothes and then again at her. “Thank you.”   
    


End file.
